These Old Halls
by ImmaSmooshYou
Summary: It's been six years since he was last at McKinley High School. Now back in Lima for his younger brother's graduation, Dave spends some time walking the halls of his old stomping grounds and reflecting on how things used to be. Currently a one-shot but potentially will be expanded upon in the future.


"It was great to see you, David. I'm really happy you're doing so well. Stop by again any time you're in town." With that Will Schuester shook hands with Dave and his father and hurried back to his seat on the other side of the auditorium. The large room was buzzing with the excited chatter of parents and teachers. Above the stage, a large red banner painted with long letters that proclaimed "CONGRATULATIONS CLASS OF 2018" flapped slowly in the breeze from the ceiling vents.

"That was nice," Dave heard his dad say, sounding just as surprised as Dave felt. On Paul Karofsky's other side, his wife was busy digging in her handbag and loudly complaining that they hadn't brought enough film for the camera. In the nearly five minutes Mr. Schue had stood talking to her son and husband, Debra Karofsky hadn't so much as looked up.

"Yeah," Dave replied quietly, watching as Mr. Schue slid into a seat beside a very tiny woman with red hair. Dave wasn't really sure why the Glee instructor had come over to talk to him, and now that the encounter was over he was a little worried that some of his awkward, one-word answers may have come across as rude when in truth, he'd actually been pleased to see the guy. Pleased but.. very surprised.

Once Mr. Schue had complimented Dave on his dancing skills. Even though it hadn't meant too much to him at the time, that little bit of genuine kindness had returned to Dave's mind occasionally throughout the years since. And during their (albeit brief) conversation today, again Dave had been struck by how kind Will Schuester was. He didn't have to come talk to Dave when he saw him, didn't have to ask him questions and act like he was interested in Dave's life since high school, but he had. Dave hadn't been expecting such friendliness or even to be acknowledged by anyone who still taught at McKinley, but the way his mood had lifted at the sight of Mr. Schue's obvious happiness to see him made Dave wonder now if maybe he was being a little too guarded. It had been nearly six years after all, he reflected as the lights in the auditorium dimmed, indicating that the audience should take its seats. That would be a long time to still hold a grudge.

Dave had never been to a high school graduation before. He hadn't had one of his own – after everything that had happened at Thurston he'd made the decision to drop out and getting your GED from a community college didn't usually come with a big ceremony. So although he wasn't sure how his brother's graduation would compare to others, if he'd had to give an opinion he would've said it was pretty… well, _incredibly boring_. The only interesting moments had been when a girl had tripped spectacularly on her way down the stage steps and, of course, when he'd gotten to see Michael accept his diploma.

The younger Karofsky brother made it pretty clear that he was unimpressed with the whole event. When his name was called he slouched across the stage wearing a big smirk and even made a point of ignoring the principal's proffered handshake, apparently just to prove how little he really cared. Under cover of the audience's perpetual applause, Dave heard his dad groan. Reaching over, Dave put an arm bracingly around the older man's shoulders. That was just the way Michael was… Really, the whole family was just relieved he'd graduated at all.

The rest of the ceremony seemed to go on for days. How on earth McKinley could've held that many seniors and still have any kids in the other grades was a total mystery to Dave. Being in the 'K's, Michael had actually been toward the front of the alphabet and there seemed to be an absolutely endless number of students whose names were still to be called. Then according to the program, there would be speeches to listen through, and then awards. And then more speeches. What the hell kind of torture was this?

After a while Dave got up and excused himself to the bathroom just to get his blood moving again. If he had to sit there another minute he would've definitely fallen asleep. The sounds of "Natalie Randall"'s family cheering her faded abruptly as the auditorium door swung shut behind him.

It was startlingly quiet out in the hallway. Dave began to walk toward what he knew was the nearest bathroom, but after only a few strides his pace slowed and then stopped. He was just outside the principal's office and in front of him was the long glass case where the school's various trophies were displayed.

When he'd gone to McKinley, this case had been pretty empty most of the time. Now it was packed. Dave found himself staring into the case for a long time. He read the little gold plaques, noting all the names and years, and felt baffled by how well all the school's teams seemed to be doing. The case was positively stuffed with awards for baseball, football, hockey, cheerleading, gymnastics... There was even a big blue ribbon that named McKinley's debate team the best in the tri-state area. Since when did they even have a debate team? Weird. McKinley had been a school full of losers just a few years ago, hadn't it?

Shaking his head Dave walked on, his soft thudding tread echoing through the empty corridors. His gaze traveled down the walls, over posters for groups and clubs he'd never heard of and advertisements for school events he couldn't remember ever attending. A few minutes later he stopped again. Somehow his feet had taken him into a very familiar hallway. It was right beside the gymnasium and the door to the men's locker room was just a couple of steps away.

Dave glanced compulsively over his shoulder, suddenly anxious about being seen. No, he was definitely alone. It was a Saturday and anyone who was in the school now was certainly at the graduation ceremony. After a brief deliberation, Dave took a breath and pushed into the room.

It was exactly the same. Everything… from the dark red lockers to the pale tiled walls to the sturdy little benches, right down to the sharp scent that Dave knew to be a mixture of stale bleach and deodorant. He began to wander slowly down a far aisle, looking around. His hands were deep in his pockets, and he'd unconsciously begun to slump his shoulders forward as though the weight of all the memories that lived in this room were actually pressing on them.

So much of high school had been hell for Dave. He'd wasted so much time and energy making sure the walls he'd built around himself stayed high and strong. The pressure to fit in in those days had been a lot to handle… and sometimes it had been too much. But as much as he'd felt judged from every angle when he walked through the hallways, this locker room had always been a place where he'd felt like he was part of something. Part of a team. He and the others had practiced long hours together; they'd covered for each other against their opponents on the field; they'd lamented their losses and celebrated their victories, gotten crazy adrenaline rushes from the excitement of the game. Back then, football had been Dave's one respite from the painful struggle to fit himself into the mold. And even though he couldn't look back on all the memories being here had to offer – and there were a few in particular that still caused Dave's stomach muscles to clench guiltily when he thought of them – in a strange way this locker room still felt like home.

Finally he came to a halt. His mouth was dry as he moved the palm of his hand slowly over the surface of his old locker. His fingers trailed over the combination lock. He hadn't been near this place for six years, but it was as though it had been vacuum sealed while he was away. He half expected to turn around and see Azimio standing there wearing his ridiculous grin or hear Finn Hudson singing in the shower because for some reason it never occurred to him that that shit echoed like crazy.

How could it be that so much in Dave's life had changed in that time, but that a place like this could've stayed so completely the same?


End file.
